


transform

by aeriamamaduck



Series: Saint Petersburg Days [11]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Arguing, Barebacking, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Comfort, Crying, Daddy Kink, Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Dom Victor Nikiforov, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Sitting, Family Feels, Friendship, Future Fic, Heart Attacks, Hospitals, Injury Recovery, Light Dom/sub, Love, M/M, Major Character Injury, Making Up, Married Couple, Married Sex, Mother-Son Relationship, Off-screen Bottom Victor & Top Yuuri, Off-screen switching, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Post-Canon, Retirement, Riding, Rimming, Supportive Katsuki Yuuri, Switching, Top Victor Nikiforov, background seungchuchu, off-screen sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-03-18 23:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13692033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeriamamaduck/pseuds/aeriamamaduck
Summary: On the injury and what came after.[please read the rest of the stories from the series]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> know that broken ankle I keep writing around?
> 
> here it is, finally
> 
> Victor is 31  
> Yuuri is 27

It hurt. 

 

It felt stiff.

 

It was so cold.

 

Victor had been glaring at the length of his right leg for what felt like hours, furious at the fear of pain in the aftermath of that first, devastating snap.

 

_What went wrong? Just what went wrong?_

 

Had he been tired? Had he been pushing himself harder than usual? He'd felt good that morning, everything looked like it would go  _right._ Why in the world did he end up in the hospital with a broken ankle?

 

Yuuri was sitting beside him, breaths shaky as he too looked at Victor's ankle with a worried expression. He was the first to reach Victor's side when it happened, horrified and attentive not twenty seconds after he'd been smiling as he watched Victor skate.

 

They'd held hands as long as they could, and now, sitting together and waiting for Victor to be taken for x-rays, they were still holding hands.

 

"Yuuri," Victor said, a little surprised by how hoarse his voice sounded.

 

"Yeah?" Yuuri quickly replied, gaze attentive as he leaned in to hear Victor state what he needed.

 

Smiling softly at his husband, Victor showed him the phone in his hand, and cleared his throat before explaining, "I...I'm going to call my mother."

 

No matter how much time passed after their reconciliation, Victor was still surprised by the fact that he needed his mother again. Today it seemed important. Undeniable. It didn't feel right not to let her know what had happened.

 

Yuuri's eyes briefly widened with surprise, and then he nodded and said, "That's a good idea. Did you want her to come?"

 

"Yes," Victor immediately replied, still surprising himself. If he wanted comfort Yuuri was right there. So was Yakov (only he'd gone to get coffee a few minutes before). 

 

"Ask her to spend the night, if you want," Yuuri suggested, and Victor couldn't help but be thunderstruck as he looked at him. Maybe it was because the pain and exhaustion had gotten to Victor's brain, but this was still such a new and unexpected mixture of emotions. He nodded in agreement, soothed a little by Yuuri's hand stroking his shoulder as he tapped at his phone screen.

 

He wondered what he was going to say to her.  _Hello, Mama, how are you? I hope you're not feeling lonely. By the way I broke my ankle, the season is probably over for me, and I don't know what happens after this._

 

He glanced at Yuuri anxiously as he brought the phone up to his ear and heard the dial tone. 

 

_What am I going to do?_

 

There was a click followed by the breezy sound of his mother's voice.  _"Vitya?"_

 

Swallowing, Victor reached for Yuuri's hand, exhaling when the other man gave his an encouraging squeeze. Yuuri's hand was as cold as his. "Mama. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

 

_"Lena just left. You remember her, the girl with the braces. Is something wrong? You sound strange."_

 

"...Mama, I..." He turned to Yuuri again, and briefly wondered how on earth he was coping. He was visibly anxious but hadn't reached his breaking point. Or maybe he had while Victor wasn't looking. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and slowly said, "Mama, I'm at the emergency room..."

 

 _"What?!"_ He heard movement through the heart pounding of his heart, and also heard the fear in her voice.  _"A-are you alright? Is Yuuri alright?! Vitya, what happened?"_

 

He closed his eyes and breathed as he tried to figure out how to explain everything, unable to help feeling like he was going to end up disappointing her too. "I...I broke my ankle during practice." Another squeeze of Yuuri's hand, followed by a ragged sigh as Yuuri rubbed at his eyes. "I'm waiting for x-rays, but it shouldn't be long now."

 

_"Oh, Vitya...Who else is there with you?"_

 

"Yakov is. He went to get coffee..." He ignored the nagging temptation to move his leg, to shift the ice pack. How did people even ask... "Mama, could...could you come, please?"

 

He had no idea how he managed it, but actually asking felt like such a relief.

 

_"Of course. Tell me which hospital you're at."_

 

He did, and quickly added, "I might be here a while, but I'll let you know if we're on our way home."

 

_"Alright. Keep me posted."_

 

"Drive carefully," he murmured before hanging up, and he could feel his throat tighten with tears as he leaned back into the pillows. Victor shut his eyes, misery hitting him in waves. He was uncomfortable, and this entire situation felt horribly unreal.  _I'm going to open my eyes and I'll wake up in bed. Yuuri and I will go to practice and everything will go on normally._

 

It was a little hard to picture that when he could still hear the chatter and noises of the emergency room. 

 

He opened his eyes and turned to Yuuri, whose knee kept jiggling as he looked around, as if he could summon a doctor or a nurse that way.

 

"What am I going to do?" he heard himself ask in hushed tones.

 

Yuuri turned to look at him, surprised by his quiet outburst.

 

Victor found no answers in the face he loved so much.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri had no answers for Victor.

 

It was late in the evening, and Victor was about as comfortable as they could make him. A clean break, at least, one that would likely take six weeks to heal. Then more evaluation would be needed.

 

Shutting their bedroom door behind him, Yuuri was grateful Victor would sleep for tonight, at least. He was still shaky from the day's events, but past the point of wondering if it had all been real. 

 

But it had. His husband was lying in their bed, trying to sleep in spite of his pain, and neither of them knew what would happen.

 

The season was about to start and Victor had told Yuuri that under no circumstances was he to withdraw.  _How?_ Yuuri asked.  _How am I supposed to just skate without you?_

 

He was hanging on by a thread. Had been for the last twelve hours, almost. He didn't know if that counted as a victory. What he did know was that he was going to be completely exhausted by the time he went to bed. His and Victor's bed, that is, since his husband wouldn't hear of him sleeping on the couch.

 

Makkachin whined at the door, about to scratch at it with his paws before Yuuri knelt to stop him, trying to calm both of them with a long hug. "I know, boy, I know," he said in hushed tones. "But I can't let you jump on the bed right now, okay?"

 

He got to his feet and breathed as he faced the next thing he had to deal with. Nadezhda and Yakov were both sitting in the living room, and the tension between them was almost tangible. Yakov hadn't been happy to see Nadezhda arrive in the emergency room. Not that he said anything, but it was long ago made obvious that he didn't like Victor's mother. 

 

Nadezhda seemed to accept this as an inevitability, and merely addressed him politely whenever they did cross paths. Now they were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, and Makkachin quickly went to curl up in the space between them. Nadezhda stroked his ears absently, looking tired. Yakov had his arms crossed tight over his chest, and looked grumpier than usual.

 

"I can't help but blame myself for this," Nadezhda suddenly said in quiet tones.

 

Yakov let out a dry huff, replying tightly, "If anyone is to blame it's me. I'm the boy's coach, I should have noticed he was tired."

 

While Victor still couldn't attest to his own state just before the fall, Yuuri had noticed he looked a bit tired, but Victor had always seemed to have the energy to skate, to jump... _Why didn't I notice?_

 

But Nadezhda sighed softly and touched her fingers to her temple, shaking her head and saying, "I'm the one who encouraged his skating."

 

"That you did. But he is my responsibility. Has been for a long time," Yakov retorted, finally looking at Nadezhda with a cold glare. "You're going take the blame over something you couldn't possibly have predicted?"

 

"I  _knew_ he could have gotten hurt."

 

"And what? Would you have come if he called you?"

 

Yuuri flinched at their tones and harshly whispered, " _Please._ Just...please..." They looked at him at least, after falling silent. "He just fell asleep," he added with a soft entreaty in his voice.

 

They both had the grace to look ashamed, and Nadezhda looked at her legs as she quietly said, "I'm sorry."

 

"As am I," Yakov said gruffly before getting to his feet. "I should leave. Yuri and Mila still have practice tomorrow." He went towards his coat, tugging it on as Yuuri went over to him. Gazing at him sharply, Yakov told him, "I know you won't attend practice for a few days, but Victor tells me you still intend to skate this season."

 

"Yeah," Yuuri said, trying to sound convinced. He trusted Yakov as a coach, at least for the first few competitions leading up to the final, but...

 

He hated feeling so uncertain about the future. He knew that whatever Victor chose to do after this, he would support his decision, but just  _what_ would Victor decide? Was he ready to retire?

 

He almost didn't hear Nadezhda offer, "You both know you can call me whenever you want, and I'll be here right away."

 

Yuuri gave her a grateful look. "We do. It's why he called you today." It had been a pleasant surprise, and Yuuri could see how relieved Victor was so see his mother when she did appear about two hours after the call. He'd been so happy to see her he hadn't noticed the fury on Yakov's face.

 

"Tell that boy to call me too, so he can let me know how he's feeling," Yakov grunted, his hand on the doorknob. "Goodnight Katsuki. Goodnight, Mrs. Nikiforova."

 

They both said their goodbyes, Yuuri shutting the door behind Yakov before letting out a long sigh. It seemed as though his mother-in-law could the emotion behind that sigh, because she then said in dry tones, "That man does not like me. It's not hard to guess why."

 

Yuuri felt a surge of panic. "...It's just that..."

 

Once he trailed off into apprehensive silence, Nadezhda resignedly added, "He's been a father for Victor. I figured that out a long time ago, but I know you and Victor won't admit that around me."

 

Yuuri really didn't want to get into that topic at the moment. "I'll get your room ready," he quickly said, averting his gaze as he made his way towards the guest bedroom.

 

But she touched his arm and got to her feet, giving him a sympathetic look. "Yuuri," she said firmly. "Go to sleep. This has been a long day for you too, and apparently this season is going to be difficult for you."

 

Yes. Yes it was. Yuuri couldn't deny that. But glancing towards the bedroom where his husband lay, Yuuri knew he had to rise above his apprehensions somehow. "I'll skate well enough for both of us," he said, hanging on to the faith Victor had in him.

 

"I know you will," Nadezhda said, her eyes holding that same quiet determination as Victor's. "Go, I'll get the room ready myself."

 

Yuuri gave her a smile, already feeling his exhaustion winning out. He was honestly glad his mother-in-law was here, even if his first instinct had been to try and handle everything himself.

 

Still, Yuuri hated not knowing what was going to happen next.

 

_What are we going to do now?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so how about that Daddy kink?

"Easy on the beer, Yuuri!"

 

Flinching in embarrassment, Yuuri quickly placed the near-empty can on the table as Phichit's laughed exclamation reminded him of where he was and who he was with. Phichit looked caught in the nervous in-between of concern and amusement, and Seung-gil was giving him a rather light glare, as though this was behavior he'd expected from Yuuri. "Was I really drinking that fast?" he asked them, mortified.

 

Seung-gil just frowned as he looked back at Yuuri steadily. "Yes, and that was your third," he stated with a hint of disapproval. "Evidently something's on your mind, or else you wouldn't be drinking like you're trying to forget your troubles, effective as it is."

 

Yuuri winced at Seung-gil's blunt tone, feeling a little defensive in the face of the other man's accusation. But he couldn't quite summon up any words in his defense, not when he  _did_  kind of want to let go of the control he'd worked so hard to maintain in the weeks since Victor's injury. At least he did the more he drank.

 

"Harsh, babe," Phichit said with a little laugh before turning to look at Yuuri sympathetically. "Is everything okay with Victor?"

 

The worry that had become Yuuri's constant companion in the past four weeks wormed deeper into his head, but he still managed a smile and a nod for his friend. "Yeah. Yeah, he's fine. His mother's still staying with him." Yakov wasn't entirely pleased to learn about that particular arrangement, but still reserved his cooler responses for Nadezhda.

 

But Yuuri was glad that everything seemed to be going well, despite his reluctance to...almost hand Victor over to someone else, even if that someone was Victor's own mother. But Victor was making it to his appointments, and he wasn't by himself. They just missed each other. Yuuri missed his coach, his husband...

 

It felt awful to be here without him. Getting into first place should have felt like an utter joy, but Yuuri needed that hug from Victor. He'd hugged Yakov, Phichit, Seung-gil, any competitor he ran into... _I wish you were here,_ Yuuri thought, misery flooding his mind.

 

Phichit nodded and then said as he leaned in towards Yuuri, "Okay, I'll reword that: is everything okay with  _you_ and Victor?"

 

Yuuri stared at him in surprise at the pointed question. "Of course! Nothing's wrong, I'm just..."

 

"Worried?" Seung-gil asked dryly.

 

Phichit quickly followed. "Pining?"

 

"Missing your husband?"

 

"Help us out here, Yuuri."

 

Yuuri looked at them both, his face totally red. "Why did I ever help you two get together...?" he muttered into his abandoned can of beer before letting out a heavy sigh and saying, "Yeah. I miss him. I miss him like crazy and I can't believe I'm doing this without him and I can't believe I  _still_ have to get through the Rostelecom Cup..."

 

He trailed off as he realized just how much he'd blurted out, giving Phichit and Seung-gil a wide-eyed stare. Seung-gil, with all of his brutal sincerity, told him, "With all your worries, it's a miracle you landed in first place today."

 

Yuuri let out a shaky breath. That in itself really did feel like a miracle, but he'd actually managed to skate even when moments before stepping onto the ice he'd felt so unfocused. Once off the ice, Phichit told him he'd skated like a man possessed. He'd beaten Phichit by a handful of points. It had felt so impossible, especially when Yuuri was so sure he'd fall apart. _There's still the Rostelecom Cup..._

 

"I bet Victor's really proud, though," Phichit added encouragingly.

 

"Yeah, he is," Yuuri said with a soft smile. There was no denying the loving pride in Victor's voice when Yuuri called him, but of course after it came the firm warning to no get too comfortable yet. "I miss him," he admitted. "...And I could tell he hates that he had to withdraw from the series..."

 

"What is he going to do once his ankle's healed?" Seung-gil asked after a long sip of his beer.

 

Yuuri looked away, chewing on the inside of his cheek as his brow wrinkled in a frown. "We haven't really talked about it." And it wasn't necessarily a talk Yuuri was looking forward to having because he knew that whatever choice Victor made, it would take its toll on him.

 

He stifled a sigh. Victor had told him not to think too much about it, and Yuuri promised he wouldn't. That instinct to keep things under control only increased once he let go of Victor's hand in Pulkovo, and it was nearly impossible to keep his mind on his program when he was still concerned about Victor.

 

But he'd managed it. That was the most astounding and frightening thing.

 

_Maybe I am possessed. Who even knows._

 

Seung-gil gave him a deeper frown. "Is he really going to put such a thing off?"

 

"Seung-gil," Phichit warned.

 

Yuuri sighed and shook his head. "I don't know if he's putting it off. He doesn't want to make this decision on his own, you know? So...we'll probably talk about it after I get back home." And he couldn't wait to get home. He needed to hold Victor, to make sure he was fine in every sense of the word, to celebrate this victory with him. To  _talk_ to him so they could both make sure he wouldn't choke at the Final.

 

Phichit gave him a sympathetic hum and said, "It's still a scary situation. It's one thing when you can choose to retire, but when something like this happens?"

 

"And at his age."

 

 _You're so helpful, Seung-gil,_  Yuuri thought with a dry stare in his direction. Yes, Victor was well aware of his age, along with every other factor in his decision, one he wasn't likely to make anytime soon. At least not before the Final.

 

With another sigh, Yuuri decided that he'd had enough to drink tonight. Victor was right; he couldn't afford to get too comfortable, not when he'd come so far.

 

 _I won't let either of us down,_ he thought. He couldn't let himself get comfortable. Not until he had that gold medal in his hands for Victor to kiss.

 

* * *

 

"Am I seeing this right? Yuuri's  _still_ in first place?!"

 

Victor nodded enthusiastically at his mother's exclamation, unable to tear his eyes away from the television screen. "One shaky landing, but he did it! He actually did it!  _God_ , I wish I could be there!" 

 

He'd been saying that ever since Yuuri left, since he'd been watching Yuuri on television, since he saw him skate his short program with a look of absolute concentration, a vision in black and gold. 

 

Victor could almost feel that he was standing on the sidelines, eyes trained on every movement, chilled by nerves and anticipation and the cold coming off of the ice. 

 

But, in reality, he was on his couch in Saint Petersburg, his mother sitting between him and Makkachin, torn between said excitement and misery as he thought about Yuuri competing without him.

 

But Yuuri had persevered, and now that he'd finished his free skate he was securely in first place.

 

_Not secure, no. Never secure. Nothing's certain until the Final._

 

"He'll be fine," he heard his mother say, her voice halfway tuning out all manner of anxious thoughts from Victor's head. "He'll be home soon, and you'll be together at the Final." 

 

Victor turned to look at her. Her face was mostly unchanged save for a few fine lines at the corners of her eyes and laugh lines he never imagined he would ever see on her face before they reconnected. There was also a softness there he'd only ever seen on his mother-in-law's face. It was different, though. Guarded. Something his mother only reserved for him and Yuuri, nowadays.

 

It felt good to have her nearby, especially since his injury. That was the most surprising, despite how far they'd come. Maybe because there was a sliver of him that was still that lonely boy who needed more than he was getting, who needed that place, that person to run back to. It felt good to have her beside him, whether it was while he was pining away, injured and missing his husband, or cheering for them at a competition. 

 

"Mama, did I ever thank you for coming to stay with me?" he asked, eyes darting back and forth between her and the television, where Phichit was taking to the ice.

 

She looked at him, eyes wide with mild surprise. "You have. Dozens of times, or have you forgotten?"

 

Victor smiled sheepishly. He supposed he had. "Well, you're overdue for another thank you."

 

His mother laughed softly, eyes bright with gentle humor. "I couldn't leave you alone. I know how it feels, Vitya, and this hasn't been easy for either of you."

 

She reached out to stroke the side of his face, hands soft from a moisturizer that smelled like flowers. Victor leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and trying to relax. 

 

Phichit's music choice certainly helped. He'd have to thank him.

 

She coaxed his head onto her lap and Victor went readily, tensing briefly as he lifted his legs onto the couch. He was healing steadily, advised to start putting weight on his foot. 

 

"Does anything hurt?" his mother asked, fingers stroking through his scalp.

 

It was all Victor could do to not close his eyes and watch Phichit get his results. Mere points away from Yuuri. "No, it's feeling better..." 

 

"Good...Have you...thought about what you want to do next year?"

 

Coconuts, he realized. Her moisturizer smelled like coconuts. 

 

It wasn't as though he hadn't thought about it. He did, several times. It was just as well that Yakov had taken over Yuuri's coaching for the time being, because Victor felt like his mind was being pulled in so many different directions that it took everything in him just to concentrate on therapy. He couldn't help but feel guilty, and that he was letting Yuuri down somehow. "...I haven't decided yet," he replied, trying to relax as his mother kept stroking his head. "I don't know what I'll decide."

 

"Okay," she replied, fingertips lightly rubbing circles over his temple. "But I bet Yakov will want to know sooner rather than later."

 

Victor snorted softly. Of course his coach would probably want to know what he'd decide. "It's just...a lot to think about," he said, wondering what Yuuri would have said. He looked at the screen and wondered if he'd get another glimpse of Yuuri. He'd looked tired after his programs, and he sounded like he was hanging on by a thread. Victor heard it and his heart hurt, and he really wanted to hit himself for breaking his ankle.

 

"I understand." A light tug on his earlobe made him smile a bit as he watched Seung-gil skate his project. She added, "But try not to put it off too long, Vitya. Time catches up to you."

 

Sighing, Victor closed his eyes for a few moments. She was absolutely right. 

 

* * *

 

Victor wasn't letting him go.

 

It should have been awkward enough when they were bundled up in the backseat while Nadezhda drove them back to the apartment from the airport. It should have been even more awkward when they got back to the apartment and Victor gathered Yuuri into his arms  _again_ and hugged and nuzzled him for another half hour. 

 

It should have been awkward but Yuuri just didn't care. He let Victor hug him and hugged him back as much as he could, considering how exhausted he was. But he still blushed at every fond look Nadezhda threw at them, still not used to her presence during these kinds of moments.

 

"Have I told you how proud I am?" Victor whispered into his ear when they were alone.

 

"Twenty times," Yuuri replied, bemused.

 

"And when did I last tell you I love you?"

 

"About thirty seconds ago."

 

"Well guess what."

 

"What?"

 

"I love you." 

 

And he said it several more times, as though trying to make up for not being able to say it in person. 

 

Yuuri took it all greedily, wanting to stay as close to Victor as possible. 

 

Still, he took the fact that he'd made it through competition as another victory. 

 

He let himself anticipate a gold medal, doing so carefully and quickly. He didn't want to let any of it go to his head, not when anything could happen in the next few weeks.

 

When Nadezhda returned to her own home two days later and it was just the two of them and Makkachin again, Yuuri was still trying to keep himself together, not wanting to add to Victor's worries, not when he still had some healing to do.

 

But things were looking up, as Victor could finally put some weight on his foot. His physician was optimistic, and it looked like the ankle would heal well.

 

Yet Yuuri couldn't help but worry. They were sitting in bed together, Victor gazing at him patiently as Yuuri went through his questionnaire after they talked about Victor joining him for the rest of the series.

 

"And you're sure it won't get in the way of your other appointments?" he couldn't help asking, even though he knew it had been the...fourth or fifth time he'd asked. 

 

Victor met his apprehensive look steadily, nodding and saying reassuringly, "I'm sure, Yuuri. I triple-checked everything and you can feel free to check for yourself." 

 

Yuuri looked down at the sheets, cheeks reddening as he began to feel a little ridiculous for asking so many times. "Sorry, I just wanted to be sure," he murmured.

 

A fond little hum from Victor drew his gaze back up in time for the other man's hand to cup his cheek, thumb stroking over his cheek bone back and forth as Victor smiled at him with such warmth and gratitude that Yuuri couldn't help but be absorbed by it. "And I love you for it. Now come here," Victor said, coaxing Yuuri closer until he was gently pulling him onto his lap.

 

With a breathless laugh, Yuuri carefully straddled Victor, tension starting to ease its way out of his chest as his lips met Victor's, eyes closing as they closed the gap between them with soft pressure. They'd kissed so many times since Yuuri's return but Yuuri still felt like they were barely catching up to all the ones they'd missed. One, two, a third with a quick brush of tongues and an aching whine from Yuuri as Victor sucked his tongue between his lips and rocked his hips up into the cradle of Yuuri's thighs.   

 

Yuuri hadn't realized just how he'd missed this, how desire could quickly turn uncontrollable. Part of him feared it after weeks of keeping a stranglehold on himself and feelings that demanded acknowledgement, whether or not they were good or bad. He gripped Victor's shoulders and pressed his legs tighter against Victor's hips, biting his lip and baring his neck to let Victor's teeth graze against his throat, starved gasps escaping it as he ground down into the hardening length, their clothing a stubborn barrier when all he wanted was the heat and friction of skin sliding across skin. But that worried, hesitant part of him drew away, brown eyes meeting bewildered blue ones, half-wild with lust as his hands caught handfuls of Yuuri's ass. "...Maybe we shouldn't. You're still-"

 

A hand left Yuuri's ass to grip the back of his neck, tugging him back into a biting kiss that left Yuuri unable to think, pleasure hitting him hard at the drag of their cocks together through their clothes. The room filled with the slick sounds of their kisses, harsh breaths and low moans as teeth met skin again. Fingers bunched in his hair and Yuuri hissed at the sharp tug that pulled him away from Victor, whose eyes were burning with desperation as he gazed up at Yuuri, his other hand gripping Yuuri's thigh to keep him in place as he kept giving those slow rolls of his hips. "Be good for me," he said in a low, firm voice.

 

It was like Victor had given him a tug, unraveling what was left of Yuuri's self-control and making him come apart at Victor's feet...or on top of his cock. He suddenly couldn't catch his breath, and wanted everything that the look in Victor's eyes promised, something that would ground them after weeks of change and worry and separation. Weeks of restlessly carrying so many worries on his shoulders, and just a few minutes of Victor manhandling him already had Yuuri ready to just let everything go and let Victor take care of him. Yuuri willingly let his mind wander into haziness and submission, closing his eyes and breathing out shakily, "...Yes, Daddy."

 

He loved the sharp little inhale he heard from Victor, and couldn't help smirking a little. Two could play at this game.

 

Of course his smirk earned him a sharp swat on his ass and a swift bite to his bottom lip as Victor let go of his hair. "Take your clothes off," Victor ordered softly, and Yuuri complied, lifting off of Victor's lap and impatiently tugging his shirt, pants, and underwear off, not caring where he tossed them (until the next morning of course). He looked at Victor, pausing when he noticed the way he closed his eyes and bit his lip as he lifted his hips to push his shorts and underwear down. Yuuri's heart dropped briefly, but he let it pass as he watched Victor move in measured motions, long legs bending shucked everything off, slower and carefully over the cast, precum beading on the slit of his cock. 

 

Yuuri swallowed and breathed steadily before making his way back onto Victor's lap, those blue eyes more tender as he drew Yuuri into another kiss, soft and lingering as they let their hands wander over each other's bodies, Yuuri wanting to feel more of the heat trapped inside Victor's skin, coaxing it out as he licked into Victor's mouth. The sound of his pulse roared in his ears, almost drowning out the sound of a drawer sliding open, a bottle being uncapped. 

 

Victor pressed several kisses to Yuuri's chin, across his jaw down to the spot beneath his ear, Yuuri letting out a shaky gasp when Victor's cock brushed between his ass cheeks. His hips gave an involuntary twitch when he felt slick fingers toying at his hole, a shudder coursing through his body as his eyes fluttered closed as he thought of how he'd missed this. It was all he thought about, anticipating that first, slow slide into him.

 

Soft sighs and moans passed between them, mouths messily pressed together and tongues brushing against each other as Yuuri rode Victor's fingers, seizing and groaning at the first brush against his prostate.  _"Holy..."_

 

Victor took full advantage of the find, a wicked smile on his face as he pressed against it. "You missed that?" he asked softly. "Do you want more?"

 

"Please...Please, Daddy," Yuuri groaned, cock dragging a slick trail up and down Victor's stomach.

 

After a few more moments of teasing, Victor withdrew his fingers. Slicking up his length, Victor lined himself up against Yuuri's entrance, Yuuri closing his eyes again and breathing in shaky anticipation as he resisted the urge to just lower himself and let Victor's length sink into him in one swift movement. But they took it slow, Yuuri tensing involuntarily. But it had been so long and Victor was filling him up so  _good..._

 

Ass flush against Victor's thighs, Yuuri bared his neck again to let Victor's mouth wander his chest, tongue dragging over his skin and flicking against a nipple, knocking the air out of Yuuri's lungs.

 

Urgency at its peak, Yuuri let the careful rolls of his hips gain speed, a strike to his prostate wringing a breathless moan out of him. He vaguely heard the adoring words Victor was moaning out as he held on to Yuuri's waist, tugging him down in hard, steady motions. He tightened around Victor, wrenching out another helpless moan from the man underneath him and another violent jerk of his hips. 

 

Yuuri clutched Victor's head close as they rutted harder, faster, moans and gasps building until Yuuri came with a choked cry, making a mess across Victor's stomach as he buried his face in Victor's hair. "Come inside me," he begged, voice sounding wrecked. "Fill me up, fill me up, come on..."

 

That seemed to do Victor in, the man muffling a deep groan into Yuuri's chest as he buried himself inside of him and came, thrusting up into Yuuri a few more times before they both fell still, Yuuri loosely wrapped around Victor as he greedily swallowed all the air he could get, his entire body feeling like an open nerve as Victor held on to him, sounding just as starved for breath.

 

"...Sit on my face," Victor suddenly said, voice rough and shaky.

 

Yet another shiver made its way through Yuuri's body at the words, and he slowly lifted himself off of Victor's spent length, shaking as he did so and wincing at the familiar drag inside of him. He couldn't resist moaning at the way Victor's spend leaked out of him, loving how it felt. Victor, hair disheveled and eyes hooded as he laid his head down on the pillow and licked his lips. 

 

Yuuri turned around to face Victor's legs, eyes instinctively falling on the still-healing ankle. It was fine, Victor was fine. He blushed at the sound of Victor's excited breaths as he straddled his torso, Victor's hands immediately taking handfuls of his ass and parting his cheeks just before Yuuri felt his tongue swiping along his exposed hole.

 

 _"Fuck-"_  Yuuri cursed, arms buckling as Victor lapped at his twitching entrance, dipping inside to lick his own come out of Yuuri. Cheek resting on Victor's thigh, Yuuri's voice broke off into weaker moans as he thrust back against Victor's face, deaf to Victor's own delighted moans as he thrust his tongue and a finger into him.

 

Overstimulated, Yuuri could only mouth at the skin below him, coaxed into hardness again as Victor's tongued worked at him slowly. He yelped when Victor's hand wrapped around his cock, climaxing again as his hips kept twitching back onto Victor's tongue. With one last lick, Yuuri felt Victor press a soft kiss to his ass cheek, and Yuuri buried his face in Victor's stomach.

 

Moments later Yuuri lay quietly against Victor, wadded up tissues lying in a semi-neat pile next to them. 

 

Still floating pleasantly, Yuuri peered up to press a kiss to Victor's jaw, loving the happy little hum his husband gave. "Was that my reward for staying in first place?"

 

"And for everything else," the older man said, eyes warm and tender as he looked at Yuuri. 

 

His heart aching sweetly, Yuuri closed his eyes and linked their hands together over Victor's stomach. "...I guess I should get ready for when I win at the Final."

 

"You read my mind, Yuurichka," Victor said with a wide smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hardest chapter to write. The angstiest chapter too.

"This is important, you know." 

 

Yuuri was smiling as he said it, still not at the point where he would probably lose his patience. He sensed that that point was still far off, and he  _really_ didn't want to get to it. Especially not anytime soon, not with the Final and Nationals to look forward to. 

 

Victor quickly replied, " _Not_ as important as you getting your practice. Now drink more water."

 

Giving him a dry look, Yuuri took a long drink. Victor was getting around with his boot now, leaving his hands free to take Yuuri's as they walked. He'd have therapy that afternoon and Yuuri would make his way home by himself, waiting for that rundown on everything Victor did. 

 

But somehow the topic didn't stray towards the next few months, or the following year. 

 

It was almost like their first year together. Almost to the day, when Yuuri was wondering if what they had could actually last beyond the Final in Barcelona without Victor resenting him for it. Four years. Four years, and Yuuri was still being faced by some unknown future, though it wasn't as dreadful as it was back then.

 

"You don't want to put this off for too long," he insisted, urging Victor to listen to him. "You're already missing Nationals, and before you know it it'll be next season." He tied his laces a little too forcefully, instantly feeling how tight they felt over the top of his foot. Keeping his head bent down to try and loosen them he rolled his shoulders in a futile attempt to ease the tension in his upper back. 

 

He knew Victor was trying very hard not to look at him. Still, Yuuri added, "You know I'll support you, right? No matter what you decide to do."

 

"I know that," Victor said, sounding a little defensive. "I just...don't know if I can decide so quickly."

 

Yuuri looked up, eyes wide with incredulity. Victor was looking out at the ice, towards Mila running through her free skate and avoiding Yuuri's eyes. He got to hit feet and faced Victor, meeting the cagey look in his eyes. "Look, I know this is going to be hard either way, but..." He trailed off, not knowing what else he  _could_ say. 

 

It wasn't that he was openly favoring one choice over the other. Yuuri had spent weeks privately mulling over what either one would mean, refusing to air out his concerns when Victor needed to focus on his own recovery, on  _not_ retreating to the quiet warm of their bed, a trap for his mind when there was just too much. Retirement would mean every season would be much like their first together, and the possibility of another student when Victor was ready to take one on. And another and another, and then  _Yuuri's_ retirement would come soon. No more Yuuri and Victor, competing as equals and husbands.

 

And if Victor decided not to retire, it would mean another year of them skating on the same ice, and then another and maybe another, Victor surpassing himself for a little while longer. Then something  _else_  would decide enough was enough. Time for Victor Leonidovich Nikiforov to hang up those golden-bladed skates, so here, have a broken knee or a torn ligament, or another broken ankle, maybe the same one or the other one, for a matching set...

 

Yuuri shook his head of those thoughts. He had to remain objective.

 

"Yes, it is going to be hard," Victor finished for him, smiling without any real mirth. "I've known that for weeks, Yuuri, it's not news to me. And I can't think about it now because I still need to focus on you. I'm  _still_ your coach."

 

His voice turned hard in the end, and Yuuri frowned to hear it. "Victor, I'm  _fine_. You can take time for yourself too. You  _should_ take time for yourself."

 

"And you can't sound too confident. You may have kept your place in Moscow, but there's still the Final," Victor told him flatly, all coach and all scary honesty. "You know that anything can happen, even to the best. You  _know_ that."

 

Yuuri heard what went unsaid, and his shoulders sagged as he sighed. "I just..." 

 

Secrets were no way to make a marriage. He knew  _that_ too. "I...don't want to move forward without...knowing what your plans are," he said, feeling like he was fumbling around with his words, unable to make anything sound right. But it was out, his chest trembling with sudden emptiness. 

 

The stony look on Victor's face softened at his words, guilt filling his eyes before he wrapped his arms around Yuuri in an embrace, hand lovingly stroking the back of his head. "We'll talk about it. I promise," he said quietly as Yuuri sank into his warmth. "Come on, let's not argue when your birthday's only a few days away."

 

Yuuri huffed a laugh into Victor's warm neck. "You remembered?" he said with mock surprise, like Victor hadn't taken it upon himself to make his birthday into the equivalent of a national holiday.

 

"Of course I did!" Victor exclaimed with mock offense. "Besides, I've already thought of twenty different things we could do that night," he said as he tapped Yuuri's lips.

 

" _Victor!"_

 

"Just listen!" his husband exclaimed, hanging on to a flustered Yuuri as he gave him a very wicked smirk. He lowered his voice and said right into Yuuri's ear, "I could lay you down and kiss your...nose." Yuuri snorted into his hand, and Victor went on listing, "Your forehead. Your neck..."

 

Yuuri wrapped his arms loosely around Victor's waist, smiling and feeling truly relaxed, even though he'd just dodged an argument and he still had the Final to look forward to. 

 

But then he realized...there was something off about this. Not the hug or Victor's lighthearted teasing, but it felt as though something was missing. He peered over Victor's shoulder and then realized he knew just what it was as soon as his eyes fell on Yakov, who was looking rather subdued and...uncomfortable as he watched Mila practice her jumps and wasn't even saying a word to her. "Hey...Is Yakov okay?" Yuuri asked, drawing away from Victor. "He hasn't yelled at us for fooling around yet." 

 

Victor turned to look at his coach, brow wrinkling in concern. "...That is shocking," he said, loosening his hold on Yuuri. "I'll go check on him."

 

Yuuri watched him slowly make his way towards Yakov before taking his skate guards off and taking to the ice.

 

In Moscow he'd  _still_ skated like he was possessed, but he hadn't walked around in a lost daze afterward, looking for a hug he wasn't getting. Victor was there, the world's eyes on him while his attention was solely on Yuuri, ready to give him the hug and praise he'd needed in China.

 

He didn't want to think it was all a fluke, and that he'd fail spectacularly at the Final. He wanted to win again, for both of them.  _I'll pour my heart out the way I have been_ , he thought as he landed a jump.  _I'll relax when I'm wearing that gold medal._

 

Later on Victor told Yuuri that Yakov said he'd been having some heartburn.  

 

* * *

 

Yuuri had his gold medal and he  _wasn't_ relaxed. 

 

He'd been patient about this, ceding to Victor's admonitions about concentrating on his skating and reassurances that they'd have plenty of time to talk about this once the Final was over.

 

Now Yuuri had to concentrate on Nationals, he said.

 

They were sitting across from each other on the couch, Yuuri staring at his husband incredulously. "Victor, talking about this isn't going to affect my performance at Nationals. It wouldn't have affected my performance at the Final either!"

 

"You skated amazingly, Yuuri, and I'm proud of that. But there was no way we were jeopardizing that by discussing my problems," Victor said with a stubborn set to his jaw.

 

Frowning, Yuuri scooted closer to him, though not to lean into him as he would have if this were actually a relaxed evening, and their were just winding down after a long day. "You're not alone in this, you know," he told him.

 

Victor met his frown with one of his own, and Yuuri refused to back off. "You still have a few good years left, Yuuri, no matter what I decide to do."

 

"I don't get it," Yuuri said with an impatient shake of his head, tension flooding his body at Victor's sudden refusal to budge. "You  _can_ be decisive, I know it. And I know this is hard and...and scary, but you can't just...refuse to make a decision!"

 

Victor gave him a level stare, and it was like a barrier suddenly sprang up between them, Victor's body language already coiled and drawn in on itself. "Have you ever thought that maybe you're not the only one who can't make a simple decision every now and then?" Victor suddenly asked, voice hard. "Keep skating. Stop skating. Doesn't that sound familiar?"

 

Ouch.

 

Yuuri tensed further at the reminder, but shot back defensively, "That was different. I _wanted_ to skate. I wasn't injured, I...I just didn't know how to cope with...with what was happening, and-"

 

"And do you think it's been easy for me to cope?!" Victor said, suddenly getting to his feet and pacing as he dragged a hand through his hair, looking worn as a rag. "...I'm tired. I'm so tired, I just want to say 'enough. I'm finished.' But I can't. Not when I'm used to planning, to creating new steps and coming up with the next best thing, what my story's going to be." He came to a stop in front of Yuuri, who saw how frantic those blue eyes became. "And it got so much better after our year together. I had you, I had my skating...How can I let that go?"

 

Yuuri stared up at him in disbelief before getting to his feet and asking, "What do you mean you  _had_ me? I'm still here, damn it, and I'm not going anywhere!" 

 

He suddenly felt so exhausted, like he'd fought the hardest fight of his life, like he'd been shoveling coal in a rapidly sinking ship. Was this really happening? Had Yuuri been _this_ complacent about their marriage? Their entire relationship? "Have I...Have I failed you somehow? Haven't I made how I feel about you clear enough?" he asked. "Is that what this is about? Do you  _still_ think I'll walk away from you after  _everything_ we've been through?"

 

"No! I..." Victor tore his gaze away, looking incredibly lost. "...I don't know. That's just it. I don't know what will happen, and I hate that. I can't stand it. You can understand that!"

 

Of course he could. Maybe that was the problem. Or it wasn't. Yuuri had no clue. He could only stare at Victor, feeling helpless, and asked quietly, fearfully, "So...you don't know what you'll do?"

 

"I don't," Victor said before sitting back down heavily on the couch, his head bowed as if in total defeat. It was scaring Yuuri, and then Victor added, "And now you're mad at me because of it."  

 

"I'm not mad!"

 

Victor gave him a disbelieving look. "I know you think I'm incredibly oblivious, but I  _do_ notice when you're losing your patience, Yuuri."

 

"Do you think I  _like_ not knowing what's going to happen?" Yuuri exclaimed. "You're acting like you'll be all alone in this. I'm  _here!_ Maybe you  _do_ think I'm walking away like these past five years haven't meant anything!"

 

"Tell me what to do, then," Victor challenged, looking up at him expectantly. "Tell me what you want me to do and we'll do it your way."

 

"I don't  _want_ you to do it my way!" Yuuri replied impatiently, feeling like everything was spinning out of control and there was no stopping it. "I want to stand by your decision, I want to support you because you're my husband and you mean everything to me!" He sat down, still not close to Victor, but gave him a pained look as he remembered the night before their first Final in Barcelona, when Yuuri had made a choice, thinking he was doing what was best for both of them. "...The last time I tried to make your decisions for you, I broke your heart. Remember? I'll talk with you, I'll support you, but I can't make this choice!"

 

He couldn't possibly. _Maybe if I hadn't said anything four years ago...you would've retired a long time ago, and this wouldn't have..._ Yuuri shut his eyes, refusing to cry. "Don't ask me to..."

 

There were a few moments of silence before Victor stated, "You're still so afraid I'll resent you for something."

 

"You resent me talking about this," Yuuri replied, his voice tight.

 

"Because we're going in circles," Victor said, exasperated. Yuuri opened his eyes and found Victor rubbing at his forehead, utterly tense and visibly irritated. "You want me to make the hardest choice of my life without telling me what  _you_ think I should do, and...I don't even know what I want, or what the right choice is, or if there  _is_ a right choice..." He turned his gaze back to Yuuri, looking so much older, and added, "I'm tired. I'm just so tired. I'm tired of going in circles."

 

Yuuri held his gaze for a few moments before looking away. He didn't say anything.

 

Neither of them said anything for hours. 

 

A sadder, more subdued version of the cold shoulder, and Yuuri didn't have the strength for actual anger. He felt sad, hurt, powerless, and confused. Most of all he was slowly becoming convinced that all of this was somehow his fault. He hadn't encouraged Victor to make a decision sooner, he hadn't been making sure Victor was resting, he hadn't foreseen Victor's fall and prevented it somehow.

 

 _Stop it,_ he told his reflection in the mirror, toothbrush trapped between his lips.  _Just stop it, Yuuri._

 

Hours had passed and none of this felt right. Silence didn't feel right, and he'd seen for himself how lost Victor was.

 

Yuuri had known Victor had felt lost. He'd seen it in the look in his eyes when Yuuri raced over to him on  _that_ day, seconds after hearing the sickening snap and the sound of Victor hitting the ice. It wasn't like he'd forgotten, or even expected it to be resolved soon. It would have been unfair to expect it.

 

He rinsed his mouth out and wiped his face with a towel, realizing a decision wouldn't be made tonight. Not when they were both feeling terrible.

 

Maybe he could fix that last part somehow.

 

He found Victor already in bed, his back to the door and Makkachin lying in the spot beneath Victor's feet. His own shoulders ached at the tangible lines of tension in Victor's body. He climbed into the bed, noticing Victor was holding himself so still, that stupid barrier still up. Yuuri lay there for a moment, remembering Victor's adoring gazes, all of the times Victor told him that he felt so lucky to have Yuuri. Of course Yuuri felt lucky too, so lucky.

 

Yuuri closed the gap between them, burying his face between Victor's shoulder blades and molding his body to his. Victor gave a surprised jolt, Yuuri feeling his diaphragm contract with a surprised gasp as Yuuri wrapped his arms around him. That awful tension still lay in Victor's frame, and Yuuri held him through it, closing his eyes and kissing the warm skin beneath his lips. "I love you," he murmured. "I love you, okay? You're going to get sick of hearing this, but I don't care. I'm going to support whatever choice you make." He felt his throat start to close and swallowed, keeping his eyes shut tight. "And I'm not going anywhere. I plan on us sleeping like this for at least a hundred years."

 

He was so terrified of Victor staying silent.

 

Thankfully he didn't.

 

Victor twisted around to face him, face raw and vulnerable and...relieved. He laid a hand on Yuuri's cheek a soft, tired smile appearing on his face, and asked, "...And after those first hundred years are over? Will you still want me when I'm bald and wrinkled and toothless?"

 

Yuuri laughed softly and pressed his forehead against Victor's. "Even when you're covered in liver spots," he confirmed, pulling Victor closer.

 

* * *

 

It was almost the middle of January.

 

Victor was gazing at the television in the cafeteria, not really watching or listening to anything on the television.

 

He was early. About a half hour early, but he really couldn't stand waiting at home, not when he'd been feeling so restless.

 

He and Yuuri had been having the same argument once or twice a week, and it ended the same way with frightening accuracy. Yuuri edging closer to him when they went to bed angry, having resolved nothing, and saying something loving and reassuring that didn't fail to chip away at Victor's silence.

 

Pleasant as it was, Victor realized they'd just been stalling.

 

He knew Yuuri was right. He knew his mother was right. Time was flying and Victor was  _terrified_ of what would happen in the aftermath of whatever choice he made. More than two decades skating and it would suddenly come to an unplanned stop, and Victor's career would be a thing of the past.

 

On the other hand part of him  _wanted_ to just accept retirement, to dedicate all of his time to coaching Yuuri, and eventually one or two other students. To allow his own body the rest it hadn't really had until he set foot in Hasetsu for the first time. 

 

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, thinking about his program from the year before, and wondered if he hadn't set himself up in someway.

 

"Time" had been his theme, his programs contemplative and hopeful. He gave them his all, just like he always did. Nothing had felt different or final, and he remembered thinking it was a good thing Yuuri had skated before him because his lovely face had been streaked with tears after Victor's free skate.

 

They were considered his best work, and it was only natural to expect that he'd surpass himself the following year. And he thought he would. He thought so every year.

 

But his programs lay set aside, and...would probably lay forgotten.

 

His theme had been "the future." So odd.

 

Maybe he had set himself up. Maybe he could have done something more to take care of himself, or he could have stopped thinking the future was guaranteed.

 

The rink was empty. Victor was supposed to meet Yakov after his appointment, one that clashed with Yuuri's practice. They'd known it would for days, and Yakov was supposed to help Yuuri get ready for Four Continents in a few weeks while Victor was out. Suddenly it all just seemed like such an inconvenience as they were getting ready that morning, and Yuuri was reminding him that he had practice with Lilia as well. 

 

Victor knew very well Yakov had asked to talk to him to ask the same questions Yuuri was asking. He was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. Torn and feeling the pressure from all sides, Victor snapped at his husband after Yuuri, who already sounded irritable, told Victor that he hoped the talk would do him some good.

 

It had dissolved into yet another argument and there was no fixing it. There was no time for it, or any other words, and Victor just watched, angry and silent, as Yuuri gave him a final glare and slammed the door shut.

 

Victor wanted to kick himself for it. His anger only lasted until halfway into his appointment, and he was just feeling miserable and childish. How had he let it get this far? Hell, they couldn't even stop arguing about this even when Yurio happened to be there, and even  _he_ couldn't really give Victor any input.

 

That alone had been enough to put a stop to  _that_ argument.

 

Before leaving for the rink, Victor gave in and took the first step, picking up his phone and sending a text to Yuuri.

 

**VICTOR:**

**I'm sorry about this morning.**

**Can we talk about everything properly when we get back home?**

 

No more stalling.

 

No matter how much it hurt, Victor would live with his choice, and be happy with it. He'd be happy with everything he'd done, and he'd have Yuuri next to him through everything. 

 

If Yuuri ever spoke to him again.

 

It was another fifteen minutes before Yuuri replied, and Victor read it eagerly.

 

**YUURI:**

**I'll see you at home.**

**Going to Lilia's now.**

 

Part of his tension melted away. It was a start, at least.

 

But Victor was in it now, and he owed Yuuri, everyone, himself a decision. He wanted an end to the uncertainty, to arguments that went nowhere.

 

Victor Nikiforov retires. Victor Nikiforov will skate next year. Such simple statements.

 

He looked up at the sound of heavy footsteps, and moments later Yakov was walking into the cafeteria. He looked more strained than usual, and the sight of it made Victor worry. Had something gone wrong during practice? "Are you feeling alright, Yakov?" he asked, watching his coach as he made his way towards him.

 

Yakov waved off his question as he sat down heavily and took his heavy coat off. "It's just heartburn. It'll pass. Now let's have a talk."

 

"No yelling, right?" Victor couldn't resist asking cheekily.

 

"I will make no promises," Yakov said with a mild glare. "By the way, your husband was distracted today."

 

That wiped the smile from Victor's face. "Is he alright? Did something go wrong?"

 

"Nothing, nothing. He missed cues and his steps were off. I asked if there was anything wrong, and he said there wasn't." He shook his head, Victor noting the shadows beneath his eyes, and Yakov asked, "Are things fine at home?"

 

Victor hesitated before replying haltingly, "He's...just worried about me. I think...I need to make my decision today."

 

"Really?" Yakov asked, brows raised with interest. "Well...Let's talk, then." 

 

* * *

 

Well, this had to be one of the worst days of Yuuri's life.  

 

He and Victor lost their tempers with each other and he'd been thoroughly unable to concentrate on his skating or on dancing. 

 

As soon as he'd slammed the door he felt guilty, but just kept walking away from it as anger flooded his mind. It took a few hours for his anger to cool, but by then he'd already fumbled his way through practice, likely wasting Yakov's time, and even lied to the man when he asked if there was something on his mind.

 

All he could think of that morning was the way time was passing quickly, and how Victor still had that impossible choice to make. Why  _why_ had Yuuri gotten so impatient when he could have just kept his mouth shut? 

 

_If it were me...Could I choose?_

 

What would Victor have done?

 

Urged Yuuri sooner, maybe. 

 

Getting that text had been a relief, and when Yuuri saw the timestamp he couldn't help thinking about Victor waiting for a reply for fifteen minutes. Yuuri sent it off, wishing he were already home so he could see Victor through this and whatever decision he made.

 

Tugging his shoes on, Yuuri wondered if Victor had already reached a decision. Would he walk into their apartment and know just by looking at Victor's face? 

 

He sighed and straightened up. Just a little while longer and he'd go home and they'd talk. 

 

He could feel Yurio's eyes on him, and was about to turn around and face him when the boy asked, "So? Did Victor decide yet?"

 

Yuuri bit his lip. This time around Yurio wasn't snarling at Victor not to retire, nor was he shoving an opinion down anyone's throat. The shock of it had helped de-escalate a probable argument between Yuuri and Victor a couple of weeks back. "...I don't know. I...guess that's what the meeting with Yakov was about."

 

"Victor's with Yakov?"

 

They both turned at the sound of Lilia's voice, their instructor frowning at her phone before her hard gaze flicked up to Yuuri. "I have twelve missed calls from Victor..." She looked down and scrolled through her screen again, frown deepening. "And a text that says..."

 

She suddenly turned white, and Yuuri got to his feet while Yurio rushed over to her with a sound of surprise. "H-hey! Lilia!?" He peered into the phone in her hand, and he too paled before looking up and saying, terror filling his voice, "...Yakov had a heart attack."

 

Yuuri's stomach dropped. 

 

Then he dug into his pocket for his phone, which he'd kept on silent since he got to the studio, as he'd always done. When the screen lit up, there were eleven missed calls and a handful of text notifications. He paid them no mind, hitting the call button and putting the phone to his ear as he watched Lilia's face fill with shock.

 

It was one entire ring before Victor picked up, and his voice was all relief and horror when he asked, _"Yuuri?!"_

 

"Victor! Victor, thank God," Yuuri exclaimed, his heart pounding as, right away, he wished he were wherever Victor was, just to help do away with that awful, broken quality in his voice. Putting the call on speaker he said, "I'm here with Lilia. I'm so sorry we didn't pick up! What happened?"

 

 _"We were...We were just talking, and..."_  He paused and swallowed a breath before saying shakily, " _He_ _looked awful, he looked like he was going to pass out. Then he grabbed his chest and I called for an ambulance..."_

 

Yuuri stared at his phone, speechless and frozen until he caught Lilia's approach in the periphery of his vision, her face hardened yet again as she asked firmly, "Which hospital, Victor?"

 

Staring at her in surprise, along with Yurio, they all waited a moment until Victor replied, " _Number Eight, Lilia. He was in and out of consciousness, he was talking to me..."_

 

"We're heading over there!" Yurio said loudly before looking up and demanding, "Lilia, give me your keys!"

 

But Lilia turned on her heel, already making her way out the door as rapidly as possible. "I can drive us myself."

 

Yuuri couldn't help asking in the direction of her retreating back, "Lilia, a-are you sure?"

 

Her icy glare, tinged with her own fear, made him and Yurio fall silent. Yurio glanced at Yuuri before going after her, and Yuuri quickly said to Victor, "We'll be there soon, okay?"

 

_"I'm...I'm in the waiting room. I'll see you when you come in."_

 

"Alright..." His thumb hovered over the screen for two seconds before he hung up, and he grabbed his duffel bag before making his way out the door, his heart racing.

 

He didn't feel any calmer in the car, Lilia spitting curses at the traffic as Yuuri and Yurio sat silently, the younger sending texts to Mila and Georgi. Fortunately the hospital wasn't far away, and Victor hadn't called or texted about any change in Yakov's condition.

 

All Yuuri could do was lean his forehead against the cool window, shutting his eyes and praying Yakov would pull through this, that his stubbornness would save his life.

 

He thought of Victor, of the fear in his voice, the helplessness, somehow worse than when he was lying in a hospital bed months ago, neither of them knowing what would happen afterward. Yuuri just wanted to hold him, to let him air out his worries and forget about what had occurred that morning. He didn't want Victor to feel alone in all of this.

 

Later the three of them walked through the automatic doors and into a rather empty waiting area filled with only a handful of people. 

 

Yuuri's eyes immediately found Victor's pacing figure, and quickly made his way towards him as he breathed out, "Victor..."

 

The man looked up at him, eyes gaunt even as relief flooded them. 

 

They wrapped their arms tightly around each other, Victor burying his face in Yuuri's hair and breathing shakily before looking up again at Lilia's approach.

 

Yuuri kept an arm wrapped around him, glancing between the two of them and seeing just how tired Victor looked as he shook his head and said, "Lilia, I'm so sorry-"

 

"What did the doctors say?" she asked. Yuuri didn't marvel at her composure, not when he could see her trying to keep herself together. Yurio looked like he too wanted to ask, but managed to stay silent.

 

"They haven't said anything to me," Victor explained, voice tight with tears Yuuri didn't know if he'd already shed. Not in public, he supposed, and Yuuri ached at the thought of it. "I don't know if they're still working on him, or-"

 

"Are you the young man who came in with Yakov Feltsman?" a voice interrupted.

 

All of them turned at the sound of it. A doctor stood behind Victor and Yuuri, her eyes observant as she took the sight of them all in, growing sharper as Lilia stepped to the forefront, stating in that same, hard tone as before, "I'm Yakov's wife. How is he?"

 

Arm still around Victor's waist, Yuuri heard and understood little beyond the reassurance that Yakov was going to make it. He felt Victor's tense muscles go lax with relief at the words, and he hung on to Yuuri as so many feelings vibrated between them, along with words Yuuri wanted to say and comforting touches he wanted to give.

 

_He's fine. Yakov's fine..._

 

He breathed, his hold on Victor grounding him in the moment, along with the dreaded smell of antiseptic, the ache in his limbs, and the sound of chatter he couldn't be bothered to translate, not when he was in the middle of so much chaos and trying to keep himself together for Victor's sake.

 

They only let Lilia inside for the moment, and Yuuri and Victor were sitting in the waiting area, Yurio having gone outside to call both Mila and Georgi to explain the situation. They had their arms awkwardly linked together over their armrests, holding rapidly cooling cups of bitter green tea in their free hands. There were only three other people in the waiting area, one of them watching the television while the other pair talked in hushed voices.

 

 

Looking at his feet, Yuuri took a pensive sip of his tea, trying to ease the shaky feeling in his chest as his thumb stroked Victor's hand. His lips parted, Yuuri realized he didn't know what he could possibly say to ease the misery radiating off of Victor. 

 

"Yuuri, I..."

 

He immediately turned at the sound of Victor's quiet voice, loaded with tears. He met Yuuri's gaze, looking completely lost as he said, "...I can't lose another father."

 

Yuuri felt his heart break. Of course this would feel that way for Victor, only this time he'd been the one making that phone call and watching it all happen. Turning to look at him, Yuuri took his hand in both of his and said as gently as he could, "Yakov's going to be fine, okay?" 

 

To his alarm Victor looked ready to break apart himself, breathing shakily until he got to his feet and pulled Yuuri to his, leading them away from the waiting room and turning the corner into the semi-deserted hallway where the vending machines stood, along with the one that had provided the now-abandoned cups of green tea.

 

Victor let go of his hand and let out a ragged breath as he dragged his hands over his eyes and through his hair, Yuuri hovering by him anxiously. He watched Victor lean against the wall, sinking to the floor and letting his head hang down.

 

Terror shot through Yuuri's heart at the sight. He hadn't seen Victor like _this_ since his father's death, and it frightened him just the same as it did back then. Swallowing, he knelt down beside Victor, gently touching his knee and ready to draw away if he had to. It was a few moments before Victor lifted his gaze and looked at him, saying softly, "I'm sorry for snapping at you."

 

Yuuri sighed heavily as he sat with his back against the wall his shoulder pressing against Victor's as their hands found each other again. "Apology accepted," he replied in a trembling voice as he shook his head. "But I wasn't helping by nagging you and being so impatient."

 

"Yuuri, I was the one putting things off," Victor said as they pressed their temples together, Yuuri closing his eyes and letting himself relax just a little at the contact. Victor twisted his head to nuzzle Yuuri's cheek and implored with a little whine, "Come on, let me be the stubborn, thoughtless one."

 

"Victor-"

 

_"Yuuri."_

 

A laugh made its way out of Yuuri's mouth, and he quickly covered it up with his hand and asked in a muffled voice, "Are we really going to argue about who's more to blame here?"

 

"Then we'd better get comfortable if that's the case," Victor replied with a watery smile of his own.

 

Yuuri smiled back, heart aching sweetly as he gazed at his husband, doing his best to pull them both from that frightening pit. "Fine. You're a terrible." He leaned in to kiss Victor's cheek. "Stubborn," he said as he brushed his lips over Victor's. "Thoughtless man. And..." He drew away and gazed at Victor with all the love he could summon, and the realization of his fortune came upon him like an uncontrollable rush, tears filling his eyes. It wasn't the first time he'd felt such a thing, but this time it felt more important than it ever had. He reached up to stroke Victor's cheek, thumb following an invisible line of tears. "I'm really happy I married you. I don't say that enough."

 

Victor's eyes widened in surprise and then softened as he leaned into Yuuri's hand and he said, "Of _course_ you do! I know you're happy, Yuuri. You've been telling me you love me after every argument." He closed his eyes and shook his head, turning to press a kiss to Yuuri's palm, sadness filling the tender blue of his eyes. "I never meant to make you feel like you were doing something wrong. Like you weren't...loving me enough or like you'd failed me somehow. I know you love me, I just...Well...you know what it's like to feel like..."

 

"I do. I do, Victor," Yuuri said, keeping his hand on Victor's face. "I still want to say things like that more often. For you, for myself...I told you before we got married...You're what I care about. You've inspired me for years, but..." He reached up with his other hand to frame Victor's face between them, all of the words in his heart struggling to push their way out all at once as he looked into the face he loved so much. "The Victor sitting here in front of me? The Victor I'm married to? The Victor who put his career on hold to get on a plane and fly across a continent to Japan just to find me?  _That's_ who I love. Stubbornness included!"

 

He waved off whatever embarrassment started to encroach upon him, watching Victor's smile widen as a blush spread across his face. "...Why did it take me so long to find you? Before that Final in Sochi...you were just a competitor. A name on a roster. Another challenger. Another skater I had to keep a close eye on the closer we got to the season starting. Why didn't I sense that you'd be...everything to me?"

 

Yuuri laughed softly and shook his head with a little shrug. "I don't know. Life's weird and messy that way, I guess. No mind powers for us, unfortunately."

 

They sat there for a few moments, shoulders pressed close together as Victor's head lay on Yuuri's shoulder and Yuuri pressed his cheek to the top of Victor's head.

 

Victor's decision was forgotten for the moment. Even if Yuuri remembered it, he wouldn't have asked. Yuuri's phone buzzed with a notification. Likely Yurio demanding to know where they were. Yuuri lazily reached for his phone and sent him a reply, thinking that maybe they needed to get up and get back to the waiting room. He didn't want to leave Yurio alone in this either.

 

"Yuuri?" Victor asked quietly.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Did you notice that Lilia told the doctor she was Yakov's wife?"

 

Yuuri's eyes widened as he remembered what Lilia had said as she stepped to the forefront, all regal command even through the fear Yuuri knew she had to be feeling. "You're right, she did!" he exclaimed, breathless with surprise. Maybe that way it was easier for her to get information. Who knew?

 

Yuuri got to his feet and helped Victor to his, leading him back to the waiting area so they could sit with Yurio and wait until they could see for themselves that Yakov was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment! I love you all!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **VERY IMPORTANT NOTE**
> 
> I'll be leaving the country for a wedding in about a week and a half and I'll be gone for a couple of weeks, which means there won't be updates until I return home. 
> 
> The next story in the **Somewhere to Begin** series will be posted sometime in April. It's lying in my drafts, a third of it somewhat written with some of that angst I promised.
> 
> And hopefully I can churn out at least two more little Alyosha-related stories before I leave :)
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys this final chapter!

Normally getting thoroughly fucked into the mattress and coming twice was enough to render Victor into a spent pile of sleeping mush. He lay draped over Yuuri with his cheek against his husband's chest, aching in the most satisfied way, but his mind was anything  _but_ satisfied.

 

He peered up at Yuuri, envious of the way he just drifted off into a deep sleep after making sure Victor was comfortable. His hand had rested on Victor's shoulder until it slipped off minutes later, and Victor had been awake to feel it. He didn't feel at all relaxed and his mind had been racing for ages...

 

Or it just felt like hours. It had probably only been  _one_ hour, most likely. 

 

Sighing in frustration, Victor gently tapped the spot over Yuuri's heart with his fingertips, well-aware Yuuri wouldn't even twitch. Slowly, Victor sat up, wincing at the slight ache lancing through his lower back, legs still feeling like jelly. It was dark, but his eyes had already adjusted to the darkness. He watched Yuuri's dark outline turn to its side, drawing his arms into his chest.

 

Drawing his knees to his chest, Victor let the pulsing ache in his body ground him, and he flexed his right ankle. He'd already been cleared to skate, which had been a relief when he had to stand as Mila and Yurio's coach for Europeans. He'd done his best to instill confidence in his nervous rinkmates, and they'd done remarkably.  _Because they were skating for Yakov._

 

It felt good to trust that he would stay upright, and not fall into that trap of the memory of snapping pain. 

 

But it hadn't been enough. This was still  _his_ body, well-loved and taken care of, but it wasn't the body of a promising youth with so many years of work ahead of him.

 

But neither was he as old as he sometimes felt. No, Victor knew he was young compared to how Yakov looked that first night in the hospital, his strength suddenly stripped away the moment Victor watched his mentor clutch his chest and crumple out of his chair.

 

Victor shut his eyes at the memory. The event itself had been terrifying, and he had no idea how he'd gotten through those awful moments by himself as he waited for Lilia and Yuuri.

 

But Yakov was fine. He'd been home for two days, advised to do all sorts of things, such as...retire himself.

 

It was like the universe was giving Victor a wealth of hints. Yakov had his health to worry about and Mila and Yurio needed a full-time coach.

 

Rubbing his forehead into his knees, Victor took a breath before lifting his head and fumbling in the darkness for his phone, illuminating the room with its light. It was barely midnight.

 

Coming to a decision felt like a rush of air, and Victor turned to shake Yuuri awake by the shoulder. "Yuuri?" His husband have no sign of waking up, so Victor gave him a harder shake. "Yuuri!"

 

Yuuri startled awake, blinking against the glaring light from Victor's phone. He looked up at Victor in sleepy bewilderment before awareness dawned on his features. His eyes raked down Victor's very naked body and he asked, "...Again? Seriously?"

 

"What? No, no," Victor replied with a shake of his head. "Sorry, I just...I had to talk to you."

 

Yuuri's eyes sharpened at his tone, and he sat up quickly. "What's wrong? Did Lilia call, o-or-"

 

"No, everything's fine, I just..." He sat down and sighed heavily, eyes on his knees as he thought about how he would explain this without falling prey to the terror he'd learned to keep at bay for more than twenty years. He reminded himself that this was Yuuri. This was his Yuuri, paying attention to him as he struggled to get his whirling thoughts under control. "Nothing really got decided last time Yakov and I tried to talk about...what's going to happen now. I'm going to go see him tomorrow."

 

He heard a sharp inhale from Yuuri, followed by a few moments of heavy silence before Yuuri softly said, "Okay. Do you want me to come with you?"

 

Victor shook his head, hoping Yuuri couldn't hear his heart slamming against his chest, "I'll be fine," he reassured him. "You'll...You'll be here waiting for me?"

 

He looked up at Yuuri when he linked their hands together, meeting the tender warmth in those brown eyes in the semi-darkness. "Yeah, of course I will."

 

Victor pressed close to the heat of Yuuri's body, letting him lay them both down.

 

He knew what he had to do.

 

* * *

 

The belly rubs were certainly enough to distract Makkachin from Victor's three-hour absence, but Yuuri still found himself glancing at his phone for the thousandth time. He'd changed the bedsheets, sent a few dog photos to Seung-gil and gotten a few (featuring a couple of hamsters) of his beautiful husky. He'd even gotten dinner started...Enough to feed everyone from the rink, in fact.

 

Victor's reluctance to tell Yuuri about whatever decision he'd taken the night before was surprising, but Yuuri was determined to be patient this time and not hover over his shoulder, even by way of a phone call or a text.

 

But the wait was killing him.

 

Then he wondered why he felt like he was being kept in suspense. Most signs pointed towards Victor retiring, and there were other things to take into consideration, especially after Victor had to step in at the last minute to get Yurio and Mila through Europeans. Yakov was told he had to focus on himself now, and consider retiring himself, which would mean Mila and Yurio would lose their longtime coach.

 

Meanwhile here was Victor, who'd known the pair forever and thought of Yakov as a father. 

 

Yuuri supposed he already knew quite well what Victor had decided to do. 

 

Now he was only waiting for the confirmation and getting that wait over with so he could start getting used to skating without Victor as his competitor, as his challenger.

 

He sat on the couch quietly, his hand resting on Makkachin's back. If it was true, then Yuuri would keep his promise to support him.  _No trying to convince him otherwise,_ he told himself.  _Not like last time._

 

Another few minutes passed and Yuuri had his phone in his hand, ready to at least make sure everything was fine with Victor. No one could blame him being worried, not when it had been three hours since...

 

He gave a jolt at the jingle of keys just outside the door, Makkachin bolting off the couch with excited barks as the door opened slowly. Victor appeared, a shocking look of exhaustion on his face even as he smiled indulgently at Makkachin, letting him put his paws on Victor's front. "Hey!" Yuuri exclaimed, getting to his feet and smiling anxiously.

 

"Hi, Yuuri," Victor replied with that same weary look, another tangible barrier springing up between them, like whatever seemed to be keeping Victor's tears at bay.

 

Watching him slowly take off his coat, Yuuri bit his lip and tried yet again to figure out how he was supposed to ask his husband if he'd finally made the hardest decision of his life. "...You were gone a long time. Is everything okay? How's Yakov doing?"

 

Victor silently made his way to the couch, sitting down heavily as he gazed into nothingness. Yuuri, his heart in his throat, sat down next to him, trying to keep his own gaze light rather than suffocating. "He's feeling better," Victor finally replied. "Lilia watches him like a hawk. She's making sure he takes his medicine, eats what he's supposed to, follows the doctor's instructions..."

 

Yuuri nodded, taking it all in and just...waiting to hear everything. Victor seemed determined not to look at him, as though even if he _had_ made his decision final when he spoke to Yakov, nothing was set in stone until he said it to Yuuri. Victor swallowed visibly, moisture appearing at the edges of his eyes and threatening to escape until he closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. Then he said in hushed tones, "I'm retiring, Yuuri. I'm...I'm going to coach you...and Yurio and Mila full-time. I'm taking over for Yakov, now that he's..."

 

Looking down, Yuuri found that Victor's hands lay tightly clenched over his thighs. The words hit him with a bit of a delay, and then Yuuri realized his prediction had been accurate. Victor was...actually retiring.

 

With all the time he'd had to prepare for this moment, Yuuri found that he really had no idea what to say. He suddenly felt worse than useless, especially as he looked at the quiet devastation on Victor's face. He wanted to reach over and give him the comfort he needed, or say _something_ that would have some meaning, some positive effect. All he could manage to say was, "Okay."

 

He immediately wanted to take it back, realizing that silence might have been much better, or maybe it wouldn't have been, or...or...

 

To his horror tears started to trickle their way down Victor's cheeks, tiny droplets clinging to his eyelashes. Yuuri panicked wordlessly, lifting his hands to either grab Victor's or pull him towards him. Then Victor furiously wiped at his face, shutting his eyes tight as he asked shakily, "Is...Is this okay...? Is it okay that-"

 

What was he asking? If it was truly okay to cry? To mourn the twenty years of painstaking work and dedication. His programs, his medals...Yuuri could feel his chest tighten briefly, and he exclaimed, "Yes. Yes, it is!" Then he reached out to wrap his arms around Victor, burying his hand in his soft hair and holding him as close as possible. "You don't have to ask me that. It's okay to feel sad about this."

 

In that instant Victor sagged against him, breath leaving him in a ragged exhale as he clutched Yuuri's shoulders, burying his face in Yuuri's neck. "I'm...I'm happy," he murmured into Yuuri's skin. "I feel so relieved, but at the same time I never...I never wanted this day to come. Such a childish thought," he said, and they squeezed each other at the same time. "Everything feels like a huge mess..."

 

"I know," Yuuri said, imagining how Victor was feeling. Even if he'd chosen this, it was still going to be incredibly difficult for him to just get used to the end of life as he knew it.

 

Yuuri's mind briefly flashed to Victor's programs last year, then further back to that fateful day when Yuuko drew his attention to the television, and Yuuri looked up to the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen, not knowing the way that young man on the screen would change his life, or that he'd even grow up to marry him and get to hold him in his arms like this.

 

After a few minutes of quiet sobbing, Victor drew away and gazed right at Yuuri, still weeping even as he managed a tremulous smile and lifted a hand to caress the side of Yuuri's face. Throat tight with his own sudden tears, Yuuri adoringly leaned into the touch and said, "I'm...so lucky. You're never going to stop making me feel like the luckiest person alive."

 

"Neither will you," Victor replied quietly before leaning into Yuuri's embrace again, tears wetting the front of Yuuri's shirt.

 

* * *

 

 _"What the fuck kind of bonding exercise is this?!"_  Yurio snarled, making Yuuri jump out of his intense concentration and making him let go of the joystick before he meant to. 

 

He hadn't even gotten the claw close to the little blue stuffed dog that time.

 

Yuuri blew out a mildly frustrated breath, giving Yurio an irritated glance before digging another coin out of his pocket and depositing it into the slot for a _seventh_ try. Cracking his knuckles and flexing his wrist, Yuuri grabbed the joystick again and started to move it, listening to Mila as she needled Yurio, "What, aren't you having fun, Yura?"

 

"I don't know. Is it supposed to be fun watching you stuff your face and waiting for the piggy to quit playing with that stupid claw machine?" 

 

"This is kind of important, Yurio," Yuuri replied, lips drawn in as he zeroed in on the stuffed dog's beady eyes and lowered the claw and watched it close over the dog's head. Their little outing to an arcade was rather spontaneous, something Mila had immediately dubbed a "bonding exercise" for Victor's trio of students. Victor, meanwhile, was still talking to Yakov about the students' transition and how best to ease everyone into the change.

 

When the claw came up empty, Yuuri groaned quietly and pressed his forehead against the glass. He felt someone lean over his shoulder and heard Mila ask with amusement, "You're trying to win something for Vitya, aren't you?" Then she fell silent for a moment, and added in a contemplative voice, "I guess I can't call him Vitya anymore..."

 

Yuuri did turn to face her that time, smiling as he entreated, "Please,  _please_ keep calling him Vitya. I think you'll break his heart if you don't. At least until we get used to all the changes and he starts criticizing each and every move you make."

 

"I'm really looking forward to that shit," Yuri drawled from his seat at their table. "Georgi just _had_ to retire and miss out."

 

The troubled look in his and Mila's eyes wasn't hard to miss. Yurio had been the most loudly resistant to the idea of Yakov quitting, while Mila dissolved into tears almost immediately. At the very least they weren't rejecting Victor...at least not out loud. If they had, it seemed as though they were coming to accept the change, even if they did so grudgingly. No one really expected otherwise, not when Yakov had been their coach for years.

 

Mila then said in a considerably cheery tone, "Well, at least Yakov said he was planning on dropping by every now and then." 

 

"So he's  _still_ going to be hovering and growling," Yurio muttered as he chewed on his straw.

 

"You think Lilia's going to  _let_ him growl?" Mila asked with a grin. "God, I'm still not over the fact that she told the doctor she was his wife!"

 

"She'll deny everything if you mention it, though," Yuuri said as he dug into his pocket in search of his last bit of change. He  _needed_ to win that dog, damn it...

 

He finally managed to retrieve a single coin, but before he could push it into the slot, Mila touched his shoulder and gave him a concerned look. "So, is...Is Vitya really okay with...all of this?"

 

Yuuri stared back at her, caught off-guard by the question, and he noticed that Yurio was gazing at him expectantly.

 

He knew he wasn't used to sharing a coach, not since breaking things off with Coach Celestino all those years ago. Compounded with the fact that Victor was also his husband, there were...a lot of things they'd all have to get used to. Both Yurio and Mila were also losing a competitor, a challenge to live up to. Maybe, in some way, that was a good thing. They'd still have Victor as a mentor, and...maybe trusting him as a coach wouldn't take too long. "It's just hard for him to say goodbye," he explained, rolling his ring on his finger. "This isn't like when he decided to come and coach me, I mean these last few years were the best he's had..."

 

He then looked at them both, trying his best to smile reassuringly. "But he's going to be there for you both. He's...going to have faith in you, and...just be as dedicated to you as he has been to me."

 

He really hoped that inspired some manner of trust in the younger skaters. He looked at Yurio in particular, wondering how ready he was to depend on Victor as his coach. Yuuri didn't expect that trust to come instantly, but he took it as a good sign when Yurio sighed away his hardened look and said with a shrug. "I guess he won't be so bad, for an old geezer spawned at the ass-end of the 80's. Just win him that damn dog, already!"

 

Beaming widely, Yuuri turned to do just that. With both Mila and Yurio watching over his shoulder, encouraging and heckling him, Yuuri laughed in triumph when he managed to hold on to the dog and watched it plummet into the prize slot.

 

Once he had it in his possession he took a selfie as he held it close to his face and sent it off to Victor.

 

**YUURI:**

**Take a look at what I won for you.**

 

**VICTOR:**

**!!!!!!!!!!**

**I love it!!!!!**

**Almost as much as I love the man holding him!!!!**

**Do you mind meeting me at the rink later on? There's something I have to do there.**

 

**YUURI:**

**I'll see you there.**

**< 3 <3 <3 <3 <3**

 

**VICTOR:**

**< 3** ** <3 <3 <3 <3**

 

He blushed at the sight of those hearts, as Mila shook his shoulder and started tugging him in the direction of the other games. "Look! They have skee-ball! Come on, let's win me enough tickets for a hoverboard!"

 

"What, you want to burn up your feet?!"

 

" _I WILL HAUL YOU OVER MY SHOULDER, YURA."_

 

Laughing breathlessly, Yuuri let Mila drag him away, all while Yurio was spitting curses at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so the end of this story leads into the next one, **and we keep living anyway**.
> 
> thank you all for reading and commenting!


End file.
